To Live For
by Jedusor
Summary: My first non-HP fic. Will is feeling out of place in the pirate world, and Elizabeth is feeling cooped up. (It's better than that, though. There's suicide.) No Jack Sparrow POV because nobody ever knows what he's thinking. JW mild slash warning. Please re


Here it is, my first PotC fic! Well, actually, my first non-Harry Potter fic. Anyway, this is a rather interesting ficlet that kind of wrote itself. Fics like that are always a little strange, so be warned.  
  
Last warning: slash! If you don't like it, don't waste your time on it!  
  
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all affiliated characters, ideas and logos (not that I have any of those in here, but just to be safe) belong to Disney, or Dreamworks, or whoever the hell made this movie. Trust me, if it belonged to me, I would not be sitting here writing fan fiction.  
  
Review pretty please! I love reviews!  
  
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"Drink up, me 'earties yo ho!"  
  
Will Turner sat back in the corner of the bar, watching the rest of the crew of the Black Pearl. They were all drinking, singing, rubbing up against the women, and generally making fools of themselves. Will had never held with such behavior.  
  
Captain Jack Sparrow slammed his tankard onto the table and sat down next to Will. "Will, m'lad, you can't call yourself a pirate if you don't have fun once in a while!"  
  
Will flushed. "I have a different concept of fun than the patrons of this bar, Jack Sparrow."  
  
"Captain, it's Captain Jack Sparrow. And you can forget all those fancy words. Uneducated savages like us don't understand what you're talking about, savvy?"  
  
Will sighed. He was beginning to think he'd made a mistake, joining the crew of the Pearl. Naturally, the sailing part was thrilling, particularly in storms, and he welcomed the hard work on the ship. But socially, he didn't fit in at all.  
  
"Have a drink, Will, go on. They've got good rum here. Not as good as the stuff on that island, though. Stupid rich hussy, burning up all that lovely rum."  
  
Will sprung up angrily. "Don't you insult Elizabeth!"  
  
"Sit down, love. You don't really want to pick a fight with Captain Jack Sparrow, do you now? Remember the last time that happened?"  
  
Will sat down reluctantly. "You cheated."  
  
Jack waved his hand, brushing off the accusation. "Don't you think I wouldn't cheat now, too. And I've got me crew behind me. They'll come to their captain's aid. You'd be dead in an instant, love."  
  
"Don't call me that," Will said, knowing he sounded like a resentful child.  
  
Jack threw back his head and laughed. "You're part of my crew now, lad. First thing you learn; Captain Jack Sparrow does as he pleases. Savvy?"  
  
"Captain Jack Sparrow talks in the third person far too often," muttered Will, but Jack had already abandoned him, satisfied that he had made his point. Will glared at his retreating back. Just because he didn't like getting drunk didn't mean he couldn't be a pirate. Actually, he didn't know if he liked getting drunk. The closest he'd ever gotten was tipsy on wine. He glanced over at Anamaria. She was guzzling with the best of them.  
  
Well. If a woman could do it, so could he.  
  
Will picked up Jack's abandoned tankard and took a hesitant sip. "Bleurgh!" he ejaculated loudly, spitting the ale across the table. "That stuff is supremely disgusting," he muttered under his breath, setting the tankard back down on the table. Maybe Anamaria was tougher than he had given her credit for.  
  
Elizabeth sat in her rocking chair, knitting and glowering.  
  
She despised knitting, but it didn't matter what she did and didn't like. She was a woman, so naturally she was expected to knit.  
  
But that wasn't what she was glowering about.  
  
She had thought that Will, being her one true love and soul mate for life, would understand. Her father, no. The Commodore, definitely not. She didn't know whether Jack would- no one ever knew what to expect from him- but at least Will would. She wanted to be a pirate, to fight and plunder and die alongside the crew of the Black Pearl. She wanted to spend her life with Will and Jack and Gibbs and the rest of them. She wanted to never see a corset again. But she was a woman, born in a respectable family. Her father had nearly popped an eye out at the idea of marrying a blacksmith, a respectable craftsman. A pirate? Not likely.  
  
Of course, she had expected that from all of them. The person she hadn't expected it from was Will.  
  
"Elizabeth, I love you. I don't want anything to happen to you. Stay here, where you'll be safe."  
  
Safe. It was safe, being locked in a gilded cage, sitting and rocking and knitting until her fingers fell off. Being waited upon hand and foot, being constantly told what to do and what to think and where to go and who to marry. Never knowing where her love was, never knowing when or if he would return. This was safe.  
  
Elizabeth wanted to die.  
  
The question was, how much did she want it?  
  
"Wh- what?" Will whispered, unable to believe his ears. He must have heard the man wrong, that was all. He must have.  
  
"Elizabeth Swann passed away on the fourth of December. I was sent to inform you."  
  
Elizabeth was dead? Elizabeth, his love, his one and only, his sole reason for existing? Will was still sane because of the memory of her soft skin, clear eyes, sweet smile, tender lips. She couldn't be dead. She simply couldn't.  
  
"Impossible. You're lying!"  
  
The messenger took a step back. "I fear I am not. I saw her remains myself."  
  
"How? How did she die?"  
  
"It is believed that she strangled herself with a corset string. She left this envelope, addressed to you." The man handed Will an envelope and left, clearly eager to get off the Black Pearl.  
  
Will opened the envelope numbly.  
  
Dear Will  
I am sitting in my chair, writing this and pondering. My life is a wasteland, full of formal gatherings in uncomfortable dresses, stiffness and politeness and correctness. This was never what I wanted, Will. I wanted to be happy. And to be happy, for me, is the life of a pirate. That has been my secret dream for over fifteen years. And I had the chance, the chance to go off with the crew of the Black Pearl. With Mr. Gibbs, whom I have admired since I met him. With Captain Jack Sparrow, that unpredictable, wonderful, always interesting man. And with you. The man I love. And the man I thought loved me.  
Perhaps you are thinking, as you read this, "I do love you, Elizabeth! I only wanted to protect you!" If that is the case, you have made a severe mistake in leaving me here alone. There is a not-so-fine line between protection and pure misery.  
But perhaps that is not what you are thinking. Perhaps you are thinking, "You're right, Elizabeth, I never really loved you. I left you because I didn't know how to tell you that." That is what I believe you are thinking. And if you are, there is no more reason to live. You are the only reason I ever had. You and the beckoning of the pirate life. And now both have shunned me. So I leave this world.  
Goodbye, Will. I wish you luck. Elizabeth Swann  
  
Will leaned against the railing of the deck, staring out into the night. He watched the waves crash against the side of the Pearl. He knew them to be icy cold, yet somehow they looked warm and inviting. Things were like that quite often. They appeared one way, but the core of the matter was completely different.  
  
"Here, no point in moping. Help me." The voice of Captain Jack Sparrow came from behind Will. He started and turned around. Jack was tying a fishing net. Will sat beside him and picked up the strands of rope.  
  
"I thought you hated fish." Will said dully, to break the silence. Not that he minded silence. It was better than the nonsense Jack usually came out with.  
  
"I do," said Jack calmly.  
  
"Then why are you making a fishing net?"  
  
"Because we're running low on supplies and fish is better than parrot. Sometimes you have to deal with things you don't like, love. Eventually you'll get on the other side."  
  
This was extremely philosophical, at least for Jack. The most existential thing he'd ever said to Will before this was, "Life is like rum. It's brown, it's got bits of mud in it, and you get dizzy if you have too much." However, Will decided to go with it.  
  
"There's some things you can't get to the other side of. Some things just sit and eat away at your insides until there's nothing left to live for."  
  
Jack put down the net and surveyed Will for a moment. Then he stood up, beckoning, and led Will to the rail of the ship. Jack pushed Will in front of him, took Will's shoulders, and whispered in his ear, "Listen."  
  
Will listened. "I hear Gibbs snoring."  
  
Jack snorted impatiently. "Not with your ears, boy! With your soul."  
  
Will raised his eyebrows. Jack was being stranger than usual tonight. I shouldn't even be surprised, he told himself sternly. He shut his eyes and tried to listen. Jack was whispering in his ear again.  
  
"You hear the waves. Listen to the water. Listen to the sea. Reach out with your mind. Try to hear what it's telling you. No, you're too tense. Relax. Feel the spirit."  
  
Will tried to relax. He didn't like having Jack behind him. He liked to be able to see what Jack was doing, in case it was something that ought to be stopped. Jack was rubbing his shoulders now. It was strangely comforting. Will relaxed a little more. Now he could feel the salt spray against his face and hands. Odd, he had never noticed how sharp it felt. Almost as if it were trying to penetrate his skin. A particularly large drop hit his cheek. It felt as if it made a hole. And through the hole, Will felt a drop of understanding leak in, just as a drop of blood might normally leak out. And he felt the soul of the sea, that Jack kept talking about. Just for a moment, he understood.  
  
"That's it, love," Jack murmured. "Now, isn't that a better thing to live for than some lass?"  
  
"Elizabeth isn't just 'some lass.' Elizabeth is-"  
  
"Elizabeth is dead, Will. Even if she were the most incredible, amazing creature that ever existed, she's still dead. You need something new to live for."  
  
Will realized something. "You called me Will."  
  
Jack put his hands on Will's shoulders and turned him around gently. "You say you don't like me calling you love, you don't want me to call you lad, now I can't use your name?"  
  
"No," mumbled Will. "It's okay. I was just surpri-"  
  
He was cut off by a pair of lips.  
  
Will jerked back, sputtering. "What was that for?"  
  
"To give you another reason to live. You need one, savvy?"  
  
Will rolled his eyes. He really should stop being surprised when Jack did things like this.  
  
"Why are you even out here?"  
  
Jack smiled. "Because I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."  
  
"Yes, I know that."  
  
"And Captain Jack Sparrow does as he pleases." Jack leaned in again, and Will felt the last word mumbled against his lips. "Savvy?" 


End file.
